


LSG shreds and snippets

by Eldritch_Screech



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Drabbles, Incomplete, Multi, NSFW, Outtakes, They bang here, Unfinished, alternative content, just sth to remind me to finish this, potential chapter material
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 20:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20453321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eldritch_Screech/pseuds/Eldritch_Screech
Summary: stuff that I've written for Lotte saw a ghoul that didn't make it to the main timeline yet/won't ever do so. Just an exercise for me to start caring again.





	1. chapter 2 (tentative revision)

**Author's Note:**

> LSG is under heavy maintenance atm, with a sizeable chunk of plot shifting, changing. Please accept those humble snippets/bigger unfinished parts in hopes that this work can be improved and, eventually, finished. The stories are incomplete, with author's notes left intact where a scene was planned etc. Some polish words may sneak in as well. A peek into the workshop if you will.

Chapter 2

aural anxiety

_May, 196- ; Ponchatoula, LA_

The sun started to set – light filtered through the treetops and fell to the ground in orange puddles. The girl sitting on the lowest tree branch blinked and tore her eyes from the unfinished sketch on her lap. She eyed her pencil stub, flicked it to the ground and rubbed her eyes tiredly.

_I’ll have to buy a new one_, flit through her head as she threw one leg over and effortlessly landed on the ground. Ahead of her, the forest grew dimmer.

It wasn’t long till she cut through the thick, tangled shrubbery and stepped onto a somewhat trim lawn, shady from all the oaks sprawling in front of the house; it was hard to believe trees could grow to look this ominous. Giving its mossy bark a pat, the girl breezed by, past the porch and into the house, maneuvering between boxes and the few pieces of furniture waiting to be put in place.

She tripped over a book crate and landed with a pained wheeze, her sketchbook flying down the wooden floor. The girl picked herself up, massaging her ankles and grimacing at the tear in her dress. Her legs seemed to have a mind of their own these days – and they kept growing, she thought with disgust. Any more of that and she won’t be able to wear her new jeans to school-

That aside, were her parents home? Dad was at work, but mom took a sick leave, she should be unpacking their things and pestering her to do join her. Her eyes fell on a paper clipping that slid from her sketchpad, curiously faded – but its date said it was today’s paper. Maybe she hit her head badly and now things were hazy?

Trying to focus made her feel curiously alien, and she strained to make out the letters. PHS JUNIOR TO GO TO TOKIO, that was the header. It was clipped and folded neatly, hid between her sketches. She was really jealous of that girl, she remembered. There had to be something more, but the piece in her shaking hands was blank. It was quiet around her, and Lotte was sure her mom had some Dolly Parton on. And why did she feel like she kept growing?

„Shouldn’t you have left this place years ago?”

It was decades later and D was standing next to her, his long fingers curled around her arm and the clipping bleached white under his shoe.

„But it’s home?!-

Lotte’s eyes shot open then – it was her own voice that jolted her awake, body already half sitting, with no recollection since when. _Was I sleepwalking_?

The fax machine was buzzing – whatever came could wait. _I must’ve made mom sick with worry, hanging out in the woods_, she thought about the dream, cradling her buzzing head between palms. Homesickness sat heavy on her heart. Sweat blanketed her like a second layer of clothes now. There was a lot of guilt… And the irony!

„Stopthereminiscing” she ground through clenched teeth, trying to be resolute; even to herself, she sounded like a scared kid just then. Rolling to the side, Lotte tried to hide her head under the pillow – memories weren’t welcome here.

Feeling blindly around her she found a bottle of water – her heart kept beating erratically as she tore and swallowed a pill from the leaf on her bedside table. _Maybe I should make it double_. She’d have to order new ones soon, as well.

Steps could be heard then, several people probably and Lotte started, listening – someone tripped on a glass bottle and cursed; several voices laughed. She would find more cans and bottles in the morning. _Please leave quickly_. People kept coming here despite danger and Lotte felt frustrated and scared; last time somebody tried to break in, she bothered with calling the police the human way.

She wondered if she still had the restraint.

Eventually the voices faltered – and Lotte rolled over, eyes glued to the uneven impastos on the finished concrete abovehead. Her gaze traveled to the hour shown on a ceiling by an electronic alarm clock. 3 am.

Nuzzling her face to Berg’s back, the woman kept listening to the sounds of calm breathing and her own irregular heartbeat thrumming against it. She recognized all those well known scents, of the dog, its leather collar, the fabric softener on the sheets – even the heady smell of her own body still in the day clothes. She much preferred the freshly washed skin, the scents of some humans (or ghouls – she hardly differentiated, sadly) on the streets-

The missing puzzle came to her, as it often happened, threaded into a tight ball of associations and Lotte curled herself further up against it. _I know that smell from before_. It was somewhat familiar, a category of fresh and clean smells she felt sometimes on the streets - but too subtle to pinpoint a concrete individual. And it was so close to home...

The bedsheets got drenched where her palm had been griping absentmindedly - and it tore when Lotte jumped from bed in anxious rush seconds later, the fingernails slitting the mattress no longer possibly human. Berg sniffed sleepily at bloody droplets left there; some dotted the floor where her owner had bolted as well.

Feverishly, the woman flew into the corridor outside, cutting corners and banging on the walls in a chaotic sprint. Clouds of dust rose when she plunged two stories down, instead of taking the stairs – naked feet first.

Landing to a crouch, the woman took off jerkily and soon was hunched, doubled down on her porch steps, heaving. Her ankles ached from where she haphazardly landed on a flip-flop she was wearing – it had been a while…

Cold air beat against her exposed skin as she drew herself in, suddenly apprehensive. _Was I too hasty? The hell I panicked so much_? Outside, the choice to just follow her hunch right away seemed rushed. The inky darkness around her pressed from all sides and she couldn’t make out the stars yet.

The second building loomed over and Lotte took one unsure step, her legs already shaky. Lifting her face, the woman took a long whiff; but to discern between the many traces left around she would have to come closer. She gulped audibly but determination kept her from turning tails.

Over the usual blend of raw materials and human trails crossing the courtyard, another scent grew more potent with each measured step. Agitation seized her as it smell grew sharper. Blood; the ingredient that made the somewhat familiar scent so dangerously alien this evening.

The woman froze on the spot, trying to calm the erratic hammering in her ribcage. On the porch, that flat undercurrent of blood was unmistakably present – and Lotte’s nose was almost pressed into the wood at the moment. The trace overlapped on a scent of delicate perfume or maybe just fine soap, but that could belong to anyone. She felt it sometimes, took it for an urbex fan the first time.

_But to feel blood coming from there...,_ she thought, gliding her stiff fingers over the lock that up close looked pretty new. _This wasn’t here last time I checked- _

Somebody belched some few meters behind her. Whipping around, Lotte felt her breath hitch. A group of humans, incoming. With a quiet groan, the woman peeled off the mysterious doors and stepped off the porch and into the courtyard. She was stiff from cold, and not fast enough.

„Oy, you there!”, somebody called, hiccuping in between syllables. The woman stopped in her tracks, head lowered and obscured by her hair. There were several younger males around her and she felt the familiar burden settle in her stomach.

„Walking alone at this time?”, somebody else added. Lotte could feel her muscles tensing, and tried to breathe deeply and evenly. Should she play dumb and scram? Avoid confrontation and save her skin? Or risk retaliation by standing her ground? Were they aggressive or just curious?

„Hey, I’m talking to you, are you deaf?”.

A guy was standing in front of her, impatience colouring his voice. He made a move to shake her arm but his wrist was caught mid move and he grimaced in pain. His companions tensed at his side, angry questions flying by her ears and not registering. She felt tired, hungry. Whoever was in that building behind smelled abundantly of blood, something that was denied to her at the moment.

„Unfair”, she whispered, twisting the wrist in her hand just enought for it to hurt tad too much. The elongated nails that sprouted along with her agitation must’ve left some cuts They would live, if only because she was on a tight leash here. Ignoring the whine that followed, she ducked under the outstretched hand and skipped the few steps up her porch.

„Go”. Her voice came out low, guttural and the men each took a step behind, exchanging glances; unsure what had just happened. Lotte didn’t stay long enough to see them go – with a thud, she locked the doors behind her.

She couldn’t eat enough for the rest of the night and vomited everything come morning.

* * *

  
Somebody had been right on his doorstep the night before.

Standing on the doorstep, Uta felt both alarmed and a little bit distracted – he was running late to the shop, having caught the suspicious scent mid-flight outside. Could his target actually come for him? No, it was something else – a half-familiar smell, closer to a human. His neighbor then?

_And so close…,_ he thought, stroking the door delicately. How close did this person got this time?

Slamming the door shut, he barely paid attention to lock it. Even though the mask he’d already started working on the previous evening kind of motivated him to hurry up and get to some better tools at his shop, he couldn’t pass on the opportunity to follow the delicate trail, crossing midway the courtyard with decidedly fresher one – and they belonged to the same person.

Turning on his feet, the ghoul shot towards the metro still – rarely before had his shop been closed this late and he grew annoyed. Maybe changing the opening hours altogether would be a good idea? He’d have to throw the idea to Itori, see if she thought it realistic. He could certainly use some more hours to sleep…

On his way the ghoul felt so many overlapping scent trails that following the one he meant to became impossible – she blended into the larger mix of the residential streets to the east of their shared corner.

He spent his commute as usual whenever the crowd somehow permitted – sketching people.

Here, a kid running late to school, way too late – would they get cleaning responsibilities as punishment? Amused, he marked the small page with a quick sketch of the youngster, no facial details, hair loose over manga splayed on her knees. A rebellious streak in this one – she must have problems fitting in-

To her right an elderly Oba-chan, dozing off on her way from shopping – the ghoul added a small cabbage sticking out from the top of her shopping trolley.

He paged through his sketching pad quickly; among the gallery of interesting faces and his friends in various stupid poses he vaguely remembered sketching his neighbor as well. There she was – peeking from over her phone, thinking she was being sneaky. What caught his eyes was how she loomed over the people around, even seated and slumped like that – she must’ve noticed they had the same problem here.

Uta amused himself with sketching up until he reached Shinjuku station. By the time he reached his storefront somebody had already been there. A girl was pacing by the doors, beating a circular path into the moss-ridden floor; there was no snow or ice here. _I must take better care of __this place_, the ghoul thought idly, watching her skip. His hand went up in a friendly greeting the second their eyes met.

„Uta-san!”, the figure cried out, skipping towards him with a grin.

They made their way inside, the shop cold and a bit stuffy from unuse – these days it mostly sat unopened, save for the business hours.

„Seat yourself please”, Uta instructed the younger ghoul kindly,”I’ll make us some coffee”.

Paying her a sideways glance, he saw Asa already fidgeting on the seat, eyes drifting from one mask to another. She’s added a lip piercing since the last time we met, he observed, disappearing behind the decorative screen.

„I suppose sugar in your coffee would be too adventurous now?”, he called over the sound of the electric kettle wheezing. She loved trying human foods when she was a kid but these days both of them were down to store-bought instant coffee; he still had no replacement for the broken espresso machine.

„Nuh-uh, human stuff is way too gross it turns out” - Uta could hear the dramatic tremble in Asa’s voice. _They did grow up fast_.

Over the steaming mugs they shared news and gossip from both wards, the older ghoul fishing discreetly for news on how she’d been faring – 23 ward was no easy business for a youngster. Asa seemed undeterred, scoffing at his interest and steering the talk firmly in direction she’s been most interested in – his craft.

„I can walk you through the process”, Uta teased the girl who was staring at the lacquered hannya mask, wide-eyed – and a little bit jealous, the irony. „But I won’t be able to work without attending to the shop first...”

To this attempt at manipulation she stuck her tongue at him, but nevertheless was too enticed by the prospect to refuse the bleach and brush. After showing her how to prepare the proper mixture for de-mossing Uta set off to his own work – the ground floor needed a serious dusting. The ghoul refused to even go upstairs – Itori would have to help him as payback for the favour that saw him moving out.

They were busy in their own ways for some hour and a half when Asa shouted or him to come outside. He found her squatting over the moss-ridden patch, giving it a little brush; chilly air made her face pink. „You have a client, Uta-san”, she pointed to a man standing over her in a lazy motion, without peeling her eyes from the concrete. Perhaps she found lichen patterns stimulating – it was good to get some inspiration.

The client was a first-time one, and Uta particularly enjoyed those. „Please come in”, he beckoned the man inside, all mild manners and pleasant smile. He’d enjoy the process of creative conception this client might’ve brought him – and give Asa some concrete skills to expand from, he figured catching her hopeful stare and gesturing to her to come in as well.

„Provided you can behave”, he added in an undertone as she breezed past him, mindful of her previous bombastic attempts at assisting him. Scaring first-time clients wouldn’t be a good way to go.

* * *

_Do your masters in Japan, they said. It’s gonna be fun polishing your skills, they sai-_ rang in Lotte’s head as it banged over the well-worn pulpit in the lecture hall. Here in the uppermost row,the professor’s voice gained an otherworldly, disembodied quality well suited to subject so alien to her previous degree, even the foreign language of instruction felt more familiar to her.

She has listened to the steady barrage of names and novel concepts in a bit of a stupor, cheek firmly planted against the thick textbook on ancient Chinese philosophy and a hefty notebook on her lap. Pens and coloured pencils she used for notes had spilled on the floor some time ago and Lotte felt too spent to reach for them just yet. Just grasping the advanced language was a job enough during those lectures.

To her left some girl played on a portable console and Lotte looked at her Poke escapades with jealousy. She had finished hers the day before and had no time to buy or download anything else. Perhaps she should’ve just skipped the lecture if she couldn’t concentrate on that day – but that would be a third time in a row now.

Dejected, Lotte closed her eyes and started daydreaming – she had a particularly well narrated bit involving that tattooed dude from the metro in the works, lots of details in there too. Such killer face structure. Such nice smell, one of those soapy clean ones-

She was nearing the moment where, by some unlikely accident, they finally met on the uni courtyard (with a particularly well choreographed power walk scene to boot), when a shrill signal cut through the muddy haze of her fantasies.

Ashamed for forgetting to put the phone into silence mode, Lotte scrambled to do so then, knocking off everything she was holding onto the ground. There went the sexy undercut – switching places with professor’s offended face. The woman dropped her head in mortification. Misaki better had a good reason for bothering her during class like that.

The upside of the situation, Lotte considered after checking Misaki’s frenzied messages she bombarded her with, was that she had no other choice but to concentrate on the lecture from then on.

Propelled by guilt, the woman sat straighter and followed every word spoken; even noting down several important concepts – the material turned out to be illuminating. If not for tonight’s karaoke evening, she’d probably go back to extra reading once again.

Gazing through the glass wall onto the concrete landscape of [check Todaju’s ward] outside, Lotte thought on how she missed the surreal, lush greenery of Louisiana - for the first time since leaving the States. She shared her concern with Misaki, waiting on the courtyard and lazily leafing through the travelling folder somebody had left on the bench.

„Okinawa has pretty nice beaches if you need some sun. And they have turtles-”, the girl said absentmindedly, no doubt already picturing herself watching the turtles or laying on the white sand. But Lotte wanted trees, dense, a whole bunch of them – and bushy undergrowth, hell she could even accept the mosquitos.

„Mosquitos?”, Misaki blinked, tearing her eyes from the folder and looking at her friend skeptically. She was definitely in favour of turtles, she said, but if Lotte wanted the woods, Sachiko’s grandparents had a long defunct cottage in [place, mountains?]. It was just [length of the road] by the fast train.

„That’s actually the best idea, maybe all of us could go?”. Lotte’s enthusiasm flared, and she sat ramrod straight, short of furiously wagging some sort of imaginary tail.

„Well aren’t you bored with school”, Misaki commented slyly and chuckled. „Let’s ask her – good thing we all have a break now”.

* * *

[uta’s part]

* * *

[- Lotte with the girls at the cafeteria

add talking abt going to the cabin in the mountains]

* * *

„Have you heard about that last attack in Nerima?”

„Yeah, people say that when the Police found her, there was nothing left of her face-”

„Gross!”

Two first year students were crossing the courtyard, chatting animatedly, observed by one of the three young women seated at a table nearby. Draped languorously over the tabletop, she chewed her chicken on a stick with studied nonchalance. She looked at it and a grimace split her face then.

„Why is it women who always get eaten?”, she drawled with disgust in her voice. Grim stares answered her and someone mentioned them being softer and tastier for some ghouls but they knew well enough this wasn’t what Michiru had meant.

In an effort to lift the loaded atmosphere around the table, the girl aimed for surreal then. And since her companions had just been discussing dreams, Michiru had something to chime in;

„Tonight, I dreamed about Patrick Bateman eating me out," - she declared, motioning with her drumstick for an added effect - „- and he literally ate me whole then. Piece by piece”.

„Still better than vomiting teeth though, Michiru-”, another girl quipped, „-oh, thanks for the coffee, Lotte. Good you could join”, she said and took a cup from the newcomer. It bathed her face in puffy clouds of steam.

The students were determined to get as much rest as possible before the classes started and Lotte gladly joined to hung out before her next seminar, late afternoon. She felt famished and dug into her bento without ceremony as soon as she plopped on the bench next to Misaki. Her friend took a tentative sip of her coffee and grimaced.

„Should’ve known it would be hot”, she grumbled.

The weather was beautiful that morning: dry and sunny, no threat of snow yet. Even the tables at the uni’s' caffeteria have been pulled outside and into the courtyard, something that usually wouldn’t happen well until April or May. Still, the crispy air called for something hot to drink. The friends huddled around the table, their textbooks and food strewn all over it.

„You know, for a second thought, I kinda wish he did me, too", added Misaki dreamily as an afterthought; her chin rested on a particulary thick volume whose title read with bold lettering THE MECHATRONICS HANDBOOK, Second Edition. The girl, already clad in her lab attire, kept lazily chewing on one last pocky left in a package they all had shared earlier on.

She cast a glance towards her left, where a mass of jumbled hair suggested the presence of their last companion, a very tired one Tanaka, Sachiko: first year student of pharmaceutics. Even with a subject that taxing, Sachiko seemed to be a poster child for a tired cliche of Japanese overworking themselves to their premature deaths; she was quite proud of it, she often told them.

„Tanaka told us she kept vomiting teeth in her dream;”, Misaki informed Lotte, ”She’s actually troubled about it, please tell her there’s nothing to be concerned for”.

Lotte didn’t have problems with reassuring her friend. That she had actually coughed up one of her teeth that morning, she kept silent about.

* * *

That clean smell of neighbouring variety hit Lotte again as she walked Berg home before the karaoke meeting with her girls the next evening.

She enjoyed Tokyo immensely so far because of how miraculously odor-free it was despite its overall chaos – compared to Amsterdam that smelled like pot and piss for example, here she could breathe. And this particular class of scents made her hungry like she rarely had ever been.

Stepping towards the entrance to her building, the woman stopped and allowed herself to luxuriate in the delicious air around her – so strange, whoever was living next to her must have been here after last night. And was using some mean cologne to boot. A neighbour or somebody temporarily seeking shelter in there? Why the blood then? Why skulk in the shadows around her?

Lotte produced the keys eventually and pushed the doors open with the tip of her shoe – she was half busy with wrestling out whatever nasty shit Berg had managed to sneak in from the outside. It wasn’t without some serious growling on Lotte’s part when she had finally fished the slimy bone out.

"Ugh Berg, gross-”, the woman forced through her teeth as she lifted herself from the ground, patting at her dusty bottom half-heartedly.The giant dog started climbing the stairs behind her, looking positively dejected.

It took her some time to get ready; she had some problems with her make up, mixing the brushes and overdoing the contour without her usual web tutorials, switching between looks until satisfied - only for the woman to realize she had only half her face done just as she was turning to her outfit and caught the other side in the mirror. What the ever loving fuck-

She had to sit down there and then. Defeated, the tall woman crashed with a melodramatic plop. giving herself an accusing look in the mirror covering the wall. Her hands got clammy and along with her frantic heartbeat, Lotte could feel her thoughts [accelarating] uncomfortably – a sure sign her hardware was running on fumes, so to speak.

Technically Lotte was aware it was anxiety attack – she knew the symptoms, had the organizaton’s psychologist walk her through all the necessary steps to do way back in the beginning and yet… It was way easier to allow the sensations to swallow her whole.

Half hour late to the meeting, a quick glance at the phone told her after a while. Slumped on the ground with her forehead planted to the mirror, Lote felt comfortable avoiding thinking about it, but the guilt inevitably would come, she knew.

„I need to go. I want to go”, the woman kept reciting aloud as she steadied herself against the glass, getting up, body weak and reluctant to move.

With her hands shaking a little, the woman washed her make up and gave herself a splash of cool water. To duck her whole head into the sink would feel amazing... _Concentrate_, Lotte commanded herself sternly. She was way past the [Shakespearean soliloquies] when talking to herself – words came with difficulty now.

She allowed herself to sit on the loo, cradling her face in her palms for comfort. The usual silence of her home felt more [oppressive] than usual – and Lotte thought how she missed Alexandra back in the States. Maybe a quick talk wouldn’t hurt went through her mind then and the woman eyed the phone hopefully. What about the time difference...?

The woman put the phone away then, feeling like a martyr for doing so and then shaking her head at the melodrama. It would be late, Alex would be pooped after coming back from [*the med residency]. In terms of grind, medical schools didn’t differ from law school if Lotte had to guess, and her friend would appreciate being able to rest.

She thought fondly of Alex then, imagining her friend chilling at home with a book, a fluffy night robe and bonnet already in place. The woman decided to fax her without stealing her rest, and that feeling spurred her to finally contact the people she had here, who most likely were left concerned what the hell was happening by then. Checking her phone, she had several missed calls from all of them – text messages too that she cowardly refused to read.

GOTTA BE LATE GIRLS – PHONE DIED AND HAD SOME DOG EMERGENCY BACK HOME. TERRIBLY SORRY FOR MAKING YOU WORRY, TELL THE GIRLS I LOVE YOU ALL, Lotte texted frantically to Sachiko then, a bit proud to have pulled herself out of the crisis succesfully.

Black dots danced in front of her eyes whenever she jerked her body still, and the woman began undressing with irritating slowness.

[….]

* * *

[- karaoke scene + on her way there she meets uta and asa on shinjuku station – sees them on the facing platform]

* * *


	2. Kindess of beasts (10th?11th?/sketch)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A macabre meet cute at some back alley - and Lotte's species reveal turns out understated back at Itori's

Chapter 9

Kindness of beasts

_Telephone wires above_

_Are sizzlin' like a snare_

_Honey I'm on fire, I feel it everywhere_

_Nothin' scares me anymore_

Lana Del Rey – Summertime Sadness

She was leaving DNA traces like crazy, Lotte knew. Slits, where her skin split to make place for fresh cartilege and teeth, burnt in ways that sent prickles and stings all over, the throbbing morse-like through her body. Tears etched clear lines through the russet blotches from where biting into[/Takeda’s/ assistant’s] neck had had doused her in blood minutes before.

Around her, the image of the alley and the ghoul frozen some few paces to her left registered blurry, lo-fi like an image in a design magazine from the 80s. She smelled blood on him, fresh, but Uta looked as clean as ever – maybe he hid his bloody nails under the mittens. Damn he looks good, shot through Lotte’s mind and barely registered amid all the competing turmoil.

She tried to close her mouth, roll back the jaw, hide the teeth but it was stuck, blood and sinews slicking it red. The ghoul’s eyes were transfixed on her, on her split throat, lips fissuring almost to the ears, teeth everywhere-

He inhaled and Lotte startled, electrified and ready to pounce. Her forgotten victim dislodged from her grip and fell to the ground with a wet, dull thud. The head was barely connected to the body now, its neck gored and bleeding angrily.

There would be many strings to pull if she was to remain anonymous after this flew through her head then. Thoughts galloped in circles in her head now, accelerating to a radioactive whirl, a soupy, sickly amalgam – she would break if she didn’t escape and hide somewhere. She had to remove herself, find a hole to bury into, a hiding place, small and enclosing-

„Please don’t run away now”, the ghoul was speaking as he neared towards her, his tone hushed and eyes soft - and Lotte’s frenzied, shifty stare briefly landed on his face, now inches away from her dangerously unfurling maw. Uta was watching the frayed flesh rippling, bloody - and yet starting to delicately mend itself around the edges after a while; he looked transfixed.

He stood in her way, was what had primarily registered in Lotte’s mind, and there was no strength left in her body to remove him. Resignation felt heavy on her bones then.

Images around came to her in chunks and dissipated right afterwards, whirling around faster and faster - so she just closed her eyes. Her mouth – what was left of it – hurt, hurt, oozing blood, and she couldn’t swallow or spit it out.

She felt woozy and Uta moved to support her but the woman ducked away from his touch, doubling down and retching a cascade of blood and tissue, both her own and foreign, onto a nearby wall. She was cornered, ill and vulnerable.

Her body was shivering now, both in fever and quite frankly – fear. Her hands squeezed into tight fists, she could feel the strain up in to her jaw. Self-pity flooded her then, the woman unable to understand why she wasn’t being taken care of in proper environment, why D made her come here instead, far away from her partners and friends-

The woman felt Uta press the tissue in her palm then and would probably scoff at the ridiculousness if only her jaw wasn’t so painfully dislocated – did she feel it starting to fossilize where another one grew up so unexpectedly? She had no way of knowing – and frustration flooded her again, along with shame, sludge-like.

She has been responsible for her own actions, she understood at least in theory, allowing herself to jump at the study trip D dangled in front of her right before the transformation - and yet, busy in her own bubble, had never sought out to educate herself what it actually meant to change in her state in the first place.

The tissue crampled in her sweaty palm, her hand quivering where it rested on her lap. There was too much to process and she had no time, the temptation to just lie down and wait for the police, the CCG, whatever, to just come and take care of her felt overwhelming; then pain cramped her head until not much was left and she blissfully succumbed to circular thoughts of regret and self-pity, content to avoid responsibility once again-

_Time was running out._

* * *

Such bizarre encounters were usually reserved for comic book drama, crossed Uta’s mind when he looked at the fragile woman-monster, quivering and kneeling some paces to him. _How they both ended up in this alley _he didn’t know, but it definitely strengthened his belief in living-in simulation theory. There was just a limit of coincidences a person could encounter without being a literal manga character, and they would make for a pretty poor shoujo pairing anyway.

They had to move fast and Lotte would be difficult to conceal, unless her jaw somehow closed. He could always leave her here, naturally – and it was tempting. But then he would have to move back to Fourth to evade possible questioning as a neighbour in however her case had unfolded, and technically he should do so after he took care of the ghoul-

And yet he somehow took pity and now he was approaching her, first warily and then with more purpose; the ghoul was determined to see the woman to her own end, uninterrupted - and it wouldn’t happen just yet in this back alley.

Lotte’s mouth was such a strange thing to look at, a garden of bleeding flesh and exposed bone. Her jaw contained another one – like an eel he saw on youtube once. Its movement seemed to be blocked by tissue building up uncontrollably as she healed; perhaps it got injured when she bit that guy’s head off and met the spine. Maybe if disturbed enough, it could slide back inside and her flesh would mend more neatly where it split to make way-

„If I break your jaw a little, where the tissue builds up, this strange thing should be able to move”, Uta offered in as gentle tone as he could muster, touching the part where her cheek started splitting with one palm and peering at Lotte from up close; she leaned into pleasant cold, eyes closed under his murmured reassurances.

He felt mostly curious about the anatomy, now that Lotte didn’t look like attacking, not wary anymore of the woman who seemed so pitifully paralyzed in pain and fear, leaning into his touch with trust of those truly at their wits end.

She could probably gobble his head off when in good shape though, and he found that incredibly attractive. „No biting though”, he added after a while, baiting her - if only for the reassuring flash of anger that brought some brightness into her eyes again.

Lotte seemed to ponder her options then, one hand tracing where her mouth split and Uta saw her trembling; then her touch ghosted over the second jaw, checking the tissue and cartilege that had just begun to calcify. She found his eyes and nodded, reaching for his hand and rising up slowly, guardedly – part eldritch abomination, part just a very scared, ageless woman.

Lotte’s eyes followed him as he leaned in closer, his movements gentle and fluid so as not to scare her. She allowed him to reach to her face, his other hand on her shoulder in a steely grip. They were flooded by the light of a street lamp coming from above, and both couldn’t see each other well.

„Don’t worry”, the ghoul whispered, pressuring her gently to move so he could get a better look where to apply pressure „I just need to check where to touch you, it won’t last long”. It was difficult amid all the slick tendrils and tissue rapidly building up practically right before his eyes. But he was used to touching raw, bleeding flesh and it seemed so curious, to touch and feel – and be forbidden from tasting it.

Excitation made his hands quiver a bit and his fingers slipped when he tried to feel where exactly he should start with. Her second jaw was soft, all cartilage and new flesh, powder pink. Uta observed how all within her mouth was in flux and wondered if unfleshing and being rebuilt again felt the same way to Lotte as it did for him, all grainy and like shifting sands. She looked bewildered by what was happening though, so that was a clear first for her. Not able to speak, her body could only reveal as much – she was heavy, tense and unmoving; her thoughts were probably a wild chase, she always complained of having a very crowded mind.

They never broke eye contact and Lotte’s hands wringed the material of his coat from where she latched to him, the pair almost melting into each other; his own flesh never felt so solid as when pressed against hers and the touch brought lurches of pleasure along with subtle giddiness to the ghoul. Perhaps not the best moment to rouse a tentative crush – but then again, Uta rarely bothered with propriety.

They had little time so it was best to be decisive about it and Uta saw the woman closing her eyes the moment his hand found the right place and in one, efficient movement – broke the pharyngeal jaw where the most buildup was blocking its movement.

Blood, warm and strangely dark, doused his hands and Lotte jumped away in a flurry of red dotting the ground like raindrops, landing in a crouch with force that burned the jeans on the knee she landed on. Hands on her lacerated cheeks, the woman let out a wail then, a piercing cry that told him their plan had worked – at a cost.

In a split second, the ghoul jumped at the sputtering and snarling figure, arm awkwardly around her as he tried to soothe her to quiet down and stop thrashing in pain and anger. How they would walk through the streets unnoticed seemed even trickier now, but if he gave her his coat maybe the blood on her dress could be concealed-

Shushing her gently, the ghoul examined Lotte’s face, his fingers deftly avoiding being bitten by the remaining teeth. He should probably be grateful that the second set, so clearly adapted for delivering the finishing blows, apparently went back to its place. Everything was stitching itself back into once again solid plane so quickly, all the while a pair of hurt but lucid eyes followed his every move.

„Do you have a face mask with you?”, he asked her as the gashes on her neck closed right before his eyes, only a thin Glasgow smile stubbornly remaining in its place. He got a thoughtful nod and the woman produced the mask from the pocket of her coat, fastening it with shaking hands, swatting his when he offered his help. He was sure he heard an indignant huff then and allowed himself a crooked smile.

She would live, at least for today.

* * *

The moment her jaw broke, Lotte finally came back to herself – with a cry that was sure to wake up all the people living around. Pain from where her trousers got burned licked her knees but the woman paid it no mind as she kept heaving, a sort of nervous cry developing into an alarming crescendo. She kept trying to spit out bits of calcified, grainy flesh - her throat was full of it, and blood too, choking her.

„Gross gross gro-„ the woman kept crying, eyes bleary through the tears. A shape shifted to her left and Uta was at her side, blurry under the lamplight filtered through the jungle of cables and wires overhead. His presence was reassuring – and owing him her life felt like too much of a burden to be thinking about right then.

There was no way to clean up this mess now; she could only hope she’d be long back home before the genetic tests came back from the lab.

[……………]

[+ reaching Itori’s scene]

* * *

The bathroom at Itori’s was small and cramped, cleaning utensils and chemicals visible in half opened cabinets. The small shower cabin was unused and a cleaning mop sat in the bucket right by where Lotte’ face hit; she broke one of the sliding doors as she thrashed apparently as well, and it hung off from its hinges, bent where her hand had touched it.

The woman lay motionless now, blinking owlishly at Uta, who crouched besides her, his palm steady on her thigh. He was speaking, or at least she saw him opening his mouth and closing it but could hear nothing over the throbbing in her ears. Itori was peering at her from behind, obscured in bright spot the light bulb provided further to the back.

„Whoah, she really fucked up my place all right”, Lotte finally heard her speak, but there was no real anger in there – if anything the ghoul looked positively amused. Who were these people?

„Your mouth is freaky like in some kind of urban legend - who are you girl?”, she added and Lotte could only gurgle something incomprehensible in answer. Her jaw hurt too much and fiery jolts of fury licked her from within whenever she concentrated on her situation. She was in no mood for conversation, and still wasn’t even sure if she didn’t want her hostess dead.

Whatever happened to the second jaw, she couldn’t feel it anymore – perhaps her body had already accommodated it, just as her skin had shrunk where it previously had had housed it all. Still, it had been a great strain on her body and she could barely lift her head up anyway. It looked like she’d be spending night on a sketchy ghoul’s shower floor.

Charming.

Instead of humouring the ghoul Lotte opted to curl up on the cold fiberglass, despite the tearing sensation it brought to her face.

[---]

„She can’t really speak, Itori”, Uta observed as his friend rolled her eyes from where she was leaning against the door frame. A jingle at the entrance was heard and the ghoul startled - somebody had just came in, a worst time really, but Itori just shrugged her shoulders.

„Gonna take care of this, suit yourselves in the meantime”, she said, stretching out and yawning. „Spit the blood in here”, the ghoul gave Lotte a basin then, brightly pink; the woman obediently spat out a tooth right away then and it landed with pointed chink.

„Oh”, Itori added as an afterthought, sly grin stretching her lips thin, „do try and don’t make any more mess. Plus, you owe me one now”, and she looked pointedly at them both. Then she was gone, greeting the incoming patrons with tinkly voice.

Lotte had a fleeting feeling that Itori rarely felt out of control, and not for the first time that evening wondered who the hell did she end up with.

Uta produced a small notebook from his pocket then and handed it over to her. It was a bit bulkier where a small pencil was wedged between its pages. „Here, write in this if you need to say anything”, the ghoul said. „I use it for sketching whatever the circumstances”, he added to Lotte’s wordless question. She took it from him and scribbled quickly, with shaking hands, not bothering with Japanese – his English was very workable after all.

„You guys are sketchy as one fu-”, Uta read and laughed. He shrugged in the same delicate manner as his friend did, as if saying „Well what can you do” and wedged himself between where she was still curled on the floor and the shower cabin; his companion shuffled jerkily to make some space for him.

They fell silent for a while, save for occasional sound of blood spitting or teeth hitting the plastic bottom. Lotte, nevermind the contrived position she found herself in, was leafing through the notebook, her cheek against Uta’s thigh; the warmth seeping through his clothing an unexpected comfort, much as his hand on her hair.

The pad had been filled about halfway through with sketches of masks in different stages of completion. Often he would arrange intricate adornments for them as well, ornaments spanning centuries and whole cultures. He garnished his designs with obsessive hand and Lotte, in a fit of jealousy over his craftsmanship, thought of her lazy, sensuous strokes with a bit of aversion now.

Uta kept watching from above her shoulder, following after what she was looking at, snickiering at her wide eyed stare and lips slightly parted away. Lotte could smell ghoul’s blood on him clearly now, despite how clean he looked in comparison to her own gored dress.

„How did you do this?”, she scribbled in before she could stop herself in good conscience. She sniffed at his clothes then, to further draw her point. Maybe he would actually answer this time.

„What do you mean?”, Uta answered, teasing further questioning on her part. He got an incredulous stare and a pout. She meant business. Angry, she took the pencil and scribbled in a rapid succession a list of words – some in English, some in Japanese, fastest as she could.

blood

smell

clean

murder

ghoul?

„Ah”. Uta said nothing for a while after that gentle acknowledgment. „You made a mistake in kanji for blood, probably – look-”, he pointed out eventually and drew a proper sign, wildly amused at how Lotte’s eyes almost fell out of their sockets in agitation. He was sure he heard teeth grinding as well.

Placing his head against the plexiglass, Uta hummed delicately, following his companion’s fuming from the corner of his eyes, a placating caress on her hair. He was weighing his options – and bemoaning the end of the precarious balance they had been tiptoeing at ever since meeting each other.

_He was enjoying himself __with all the anonymity_, flew through his head, and didn’t want it to end. But he also wasn’t supposed to come across her that evening and out - alive. Guess they could swap some answers then.

„I know you want to talk”, he said and looked pointedly at Lotte’s mouth – she was trying to clean the bloody drool from the corner of her mouth and her bandaged neck, and took further offence at his sarcasm now. „But I’m gonna need some answers too”. Lotte rolled her eyes in answer to his unsaid warning – he’d preferred the truth instead of the fables.

„DEAL” she scribbled and added a small picture of a knife. „You start”, came after that and she pointed the pencil at him in unsaid accusation. Uta chuckled and put his hands behind his neck; wondering what to reveal. He’d like to make her chase for answers a bit – the ghoul rather enjoyed watching his neighbor reveal her emotions or lose her ground from underneath.

„It’s rather shameful, to have kept it a secret, really”, he began, fixing her with a sideways glance. „Especially with your keen sense of smell”, he added and patted her head affectionately. Lotte answered with a Cheshire’s cat smile and moaned in pain right afterwards – no moving her lips that day, Itori said after all.

As Lotte sulked, curled in ball by the ghoul’s side, they both seemed deep in thought – undoubtedly deliberating on questions and weighing the possibilities of revealing any truths.

„Are you a ghoul then?”. Lotte opted for English then. She stared up at the man intensively, tension evident in her body. _Oh darling if only you knew_, flew through Uta’s head then but on the outside he just gave her a faint nod. Better have the basic stuff cleared away.

It was Uta’s turn to observe her then, both tense and with exhilaration – it was she who was trapped in shower cabin with him after all, without her glorified teeth for defense at that. Itori would massacre him if he went full kakuja on Lotte at her place, but she herself didn’t know that – and he wanted to see her bothered.

Against his excitation, the woman answered with a delicate shrug. The ghoul blinked slowly – that one gave him a stop. He chuckled then, warm and fuzzy feeling pooling in his abdomen. He probably could tell her he had come from the Moon and Lotte would go with it, no questions asked.

Waves of affection covered him in sticky layers and he tried to reason with himself it was a function of late adrenaline rush, just the way it always was-

„My time”, Uta recited breathlessly then, and saw a brief flash of panic in Lotte’s eyes that buoyed him to bravely ask what he had had in mind for some time now-

„How much of Twilight is actual bullshit?”, he asked with shit-eating grin then, giddiness at her obvious discomfort having him almost giggle like a school boy. To his humour Lotte gave an actual grumble, a vague gesture of her hands loosely conveying that all was bullshit for all she cared.

„You don’t glimmer in the sun, I know”, Uta assured, snickering. „Clearly daylight does you wonders, you should stay more in the sun you know, you're a bit pale these days-” Lotte swatted his side then with a low growl punctuated by a cough then. Uta observed two long canines bloom as she leveled him with a gaze with matching feral smile not long after. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth and he rubbed it off with his thumb affectionately; Lotte’s eyes followed his movement with frightful intensity but she leaned into his touch all the same.

"What do you eat then? With teeth pointy as yours...", Uta drawled then, giving one exposed tooth an appreciative glance.

„I eat everything”, she scribbled then, still in English. „Prefer human bloody. Meat is taboo, though”, she added and Uta chuckled at the irony. He’d love to hunt together some time, they could _share_-

"I have one last question, forgive me for lack of diplomacy here. Your age...?". He barely kept his face straight at that - and wondered idly how far in the past they both could remember. Lotte acted ageless - could be born twenty years ago, could be born in purple centuries ago, for all Uta knew. He could still fish for some clues...

_A lady doesn't tell_, she scribbled with a sly grin on her face and the ghoul laughed out loud at that. 

"You're a spring baby, I can see it", he hazarded in a daring whisper, that spark in her eyes absolutely belying her furious refutal. She coughed up another tooth after that jerky movement; a delicious pout danced on her lips that Uta found himself wanting to wipe off with a kiss. _Some time later then_, he assured himself, head resolutely on the shower glass again.

The distance from morbid fascination to desire was a short one for him, always

[…]


	3. NSFW she comes in technicolor (after change chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her change, a mountain trek and heady scene cut short by author's lack of guts. Chopped and incomplete but there's almost a full sex scene here. Slightly NSFW but not on level of full on kakuja sex just yet lmao.

„All those bugs in the mountains, they’re gonna eat you up”, Uta said casually as he took the bigger backpack from the woman. She only gave him a slight shrug – in his black clothes he was in for some hot hell himself. Maybe she was toxic to them now anyway?

„I see you packed lightly”, came the ghoul’s mild observation then and he was given a sheepish grin in return. Guilty as charged.

Shifting back and forth on the balls of her feet, Lotte luxuriated in feeling of evening breeze on her legs – she got used to bandages and leggings and it felt so fresh now. She still accepted his hoodie, if only to gorge on its clean scent on their ride.

* * *

  
„The trail is gonna clear soon”, Lotte threw at him cheerfully, down where Uta was parting the tree branches impatiently. She was pressing forward, the backpack a small burden on her back now. The ghoul lifted his face to meet her beaming smile with a nonplussed stare. Wet hair embroidered his forehead and cheeks and she’s rarely seen his face this flushed before; definitely a city boy, fussy about insects and muddy ground.

Lotte went back to him laughing then, stepping on the slippery ground carefully. Perhaps she should be more attentive – it was so difficult to take others into account when everything around her bewildered her to no end, like needles under fingertips.

They marched the rest of the upwards stretch in solidarity, in an even pace.

„You know”, Uta said casually as he was helping her over a particularly steep ledge, „as much as I enjoy being your mule – what the hell did you pack in there?”.

„Oh you know, necessities. Generator fuel, our futon; also Physiology textbook, Sachiko recommended. It’s over thousand pages long”, came a deadpan answer and Lotte wordlessly accepted the backpack from the ghoul in the next second. He looked smugly satisfied when the walk had become this harder to her from then on.

Glancing at the absent smile dancing on his lips and their joined hands, Lotte hardly felt giddy though – something was off, like a movement you catch in the corner of your eye after you set out alone to the woods. How fluid they were together, smooth like a concoction. But she barely remembered what she’d seen in the mirror that day, much less farther in the past, and this enigmatic man by her side had even less solid face than hers. Who, exactly, fit together when they were in such perfect sync?

She left those thoughts without further examination, content on letting the lush foliage and sounds of the woods to go through her mind until nothing except green was in there.

* * *

"Honestly your sloth knows no bounds, you weren't joking", Uta said exasperatedly from where he was standing over the body sprawled on the grass. Lotte wasn't looking at him but lifted her hand still, signalling to him to help her undress from her rain wear. It was sunny now, the ground was a bit wet still and the woman inhaled the earthy scent around her greedily. The ghoul sighed heavily and moved to indulge her.

Languid and pliant, Lotte moved obediently when the ghoul peeled the half-dried parka from her body, turning to lie on her stomach to make it easier for him. Face to the ground, Uta could hear her sniffing faintly at the warm ground and the grass. The flowery dress she was wearing beneath rode high up her thighs then and the woman was kicking her naked legs in the air carelessly. Shedding his own jacket, the ghoul left it on the ground and went back to the cabin, resolutely clearing his mind of flowery muslin and skinny legs along the way.

„Bring some watermelon when you’re back, please?”, followed him then and Uta stopped with an incredulous look he’d found himself wearing rather often these days. The perpetrator was already nose deep in grass by then, and only a muffled „You can try it if you want too, it’s mostly water and sugar anyway” came his way.

It was tempting and Uta could see himself trying to eat it after all – in the past Itori bullied him mercilessly whenever his explorations had him vomiting all over the floor at HySy’s.

Preparing any food in the dusty and unused kitchen of Tanaka’s grandparents would be exactly a drag he knew Lotte wanted to avoid badly. Resigned to his new role, the ghoul took to the work with patience of a saint.

From where he was portioning the watermelon (he wondered how much puking awaited him if he actually decided to try it), the ghoul observed Lotte’s somehow emaciated form across the yard. Gone were her old shapes and even the tiger strips she got with losing weight disappeared after she had woken up eventually. The woman seemed bewildered at this change and he had caught her checking out her chest in the rickety wardrobe’s mirror earlier that day.

As is sometimes with the shifty nature of one’s thoughts, Lotte’s tiny tits took him to Itori and then even Yomo’s face came out somehow and he suddenly felt an intense, alarming prickle where his finger met the rusty knife’s edge.

„Hell no-”, he hissed, observing how blood pooled with watery fruit’s juices.

Curious, Lotte was sitting on the ground now, gesturing for him to come. Her concern felt to the ghoul alienating all of a sudden, their intimacy something a bit otherworldly still – he still approached, handing her the plate mindlessly. 

„What happened- Oh”.

Lotte’s eyes were moving from where blood pooled around the fruit to his dripping fingers and back, slowly - deliberately. Clearly trying to still herself, she reached for the fruit then and casually popped it into her mouth. The ghoul glimpsed her teeth then, suddenly sharper than before, and glistening in two rows under the sun. His legs felt heavy suddenly and all sounds around them were as if removed.

„Delicious”, she commented eventually and took the plate then, licking off the remaining juices along with his blood on it. Lotte’s eyes weren’t leaving his, and with a sense of disembodied curiosity that took over the ghoul he observed how her hand snaked around his wrist the very next moment.

„You should have it cleaned, their knives were rusty”, she half whispered half rasped, rising to a kneel in front of him. Uta briefly remembered he had fantasized about her speaking like that once, back in winter, as he watched her braless chest peek from under the dress in the motion.

„I don’t think we have any antiseptic here-”, he began and stopped, pinned to the ground with a very serious pair of eyes, matte and grey in colour. Lotte’s fingers crept up his elbows delicately, the subtle pressure dragging him down. To his own mortification, Uta detected some faint quivering in his own voice; he was being bewitched, magic or pheromones – didn’t matter; succumbing to it suddenly seemed so novel – exciting.

Wet warmth surrounded his fingertip then, sending jolts of pleasure all the way down where the ghoul was rooted to the ground. Lapping at his cut gently with just the tip of her tongue, he could see that Lotte has made an effort to avoid biting him but grew bolder with each lick – snaking around his finger eventually in one languid motion.

Uta was vaguely aware that Lotte had brought him down to a kneel, feeling her reedy arms snaking around his neck, digging into his hair. Looking up at him, she gently sucked the blood from his finger, pain concentrating in his fingertip with sharpness of a hornet’sting. She was venomous.

„Stop”, he heard himself pant and tried to pry his eyes from hers, from her pheromones’ reach or god knew what-. But instead of removing himself from that toxic reach, the ghoul leaned further in and the woman snaked her legs around him. She was straddling him now and Uta used her movement to pry his stinging palm away and catch her face before she could attack him any further. Blood was now smeared on her cheek where he touched her with a wounded finger, and Uta could see two small spots there, where she had apparently bitten him. 

„I have control over myself-”, Lotte asserted in urgent whisper, but as Uta had had just narrowly missed a bite to his neck, the ghoul's hands flew at her neck in an attempt to stop her - and his name in her mouth became a growl. Immediately, the woman’s head rolled back and to the side then, neck exposed in deference.

Their bodies were as if plastered together now, both uncomfortably hot by the contact. „The hell is wrong with you?”, the ghoul panted against her skin, from where his chin found purchase against her forehead eventually. Lotte tried to lean into him for comfort then, but the ghoul kept a flat palm  
resting on her neck between them.

„I don’t know”, came back a whisper eventually, but her eyes were still stubbornly fixed on his neck and he knew she’d jump the second when given a chance. One strap from Lotte’s dress fell down her arm and part of her breast peeked out, rising and falling down in tact with her labored breathing. They both paid it no mind, entwined in one mass of limbs as they were.

* * *

„You know, I don’t mind some blood play, which is kinky and all, but - what were you thinking there Lotte?”, came Uta’s soft question after few minutes, and from where her cheek was planted on ghoul’s arm no answer came for a while. He kept massaging small circles on her increasingly exposed back, and Lotte made no attempts to straighten her disheveled dress. From where their bodies were joined – her mostly naked one, and his clothes so loosely fitted, pool of warmth  
cocooned her and rendered both of them somewhat languid – but no less agitated.

Lotte told herself she was wondering how to say she was sorry, except that she wasn’t at all – hunger gripped at her so tightly she was shaking, and Uta’s blood made her hungry for his flesh worse than ever before.

„I get this itch-”, she started with a quivering voice eventually, „to – rip you to pieces. I thought it was to fuck you but no, most of all I want to fucking. Eat you. Up. ”

Booming laughter followed her pained confession then and their bodies ground into each other at the movement of his body - sending Lotte down in surprise, with the ghoul kneeling over her, in between her knees.

„Oh dear”, Uta intoned in a singsong voice, seemingly not a care in the world as he stared her down from between his hands planted on both sides of Lotte’s head. „You have no idea”, he whispered as his one hand traced a long pattern down to her side and under her dress’ hemline, „how I wanted” - his finger pushed the straps of her panties down a bit - „to” - his palm wandering downwards - „do just the same”. He'd be going off the fucking rails soon, the kakuja rearing its ugly head somewhere deep inside of him-

Before he could try and bite her head off though, Lotte’s quick movement - powered by thrill and hunger - captured his mouth in a kiss, her teeth a barrier he wouldn’t dare to press on any further and opted to moan against, defeated for now.

„Unfair”, he panted in between trying to catch some air, as the woman’s hands twisted the material of his shirt before dipping underneath, gripping his body in a greedy, hungry motions. This at least remained the same, Uta thought with amused resignation, as her newly bloomed talons ripped the material of his pants, too impatient to allow him to strip properly. He didn’t remember them ever seeing each other fully naked on this note.

„Keep--those away from my dick”, the ghoul hissed then, pinning Lotte’s hands by her sides as he caught them about to grip it. Before she could overpower him, Uta had her under him, pressing into her but not going inside, a torture if her clawing at his hands was any indication. Her mouth had no business around there as well, unless the woman hid the teeth she had had just bared at him in a full-blown grin; the double rows could make any lesser person go slack. Muffled laugh rumbled in his chest as he felt her thrashing against his grip, a teasing smile riling her up further.

"U-_mph_", she gasped, a growl cut short by a bruising kiss Lotte all but moaned into, a rebellious kick of her knee almost strong enough to send him off her still. She tried to goad him into going hard and fast, and Uta was willing to deny himself this particular treat just to teach her a lesson in patience for once. 

"Now play fair", the ghoul growled into her ear lowly, not a small amount of strength in his muscles needed to pin her down, her hands raking over his muscled arms and back, clawing at his skin furiously. She ground against him shamelessly, seeking the friction he all but denied her - with a snarl on her face she looked positively feral.

"You sure you deserve it fair after that stint?", the woman panted with pretend vitriol, head thrown back as he placed open mouthed kisses on her neck, the line of her jaw and then finally on her lips, surprisingly gentle and languid for all the pent up pressure they both felt. 

"Maybe, definitely not taking anymore shit from you", he murmured with a steely glint to his eyes that had her bare her teeth at him. "Take your clothes off properly, and no funny moves". He spoke in Japanese then, English not needed anymore between them. She ground her teeth at the authority in his voice but lifted herself to a crouch under his watchful eye, body coiled like spring. She was ready to pounce, Uta was sure, and frankly, he'd take it either way - fuck her, maim him, they surely went at it every damn way before. 

Raising to her full height, Lotte towered over him with easy grace, the dress pooling itself around her feet in the process, hardly a protracted experience. She never wore any bras these days and the knickers Lotte had looked like a flimsy afterthought she didn't even bother stripping off. Uta took off his shirt at her wordless inquiry then, his pants a shredded mess at this point - a slight nudge of her foot was all it took for them to fall to the ground.

"Satisfied?", she gave him a smug smile then, somehow pulling off a dominant stance on him even with her knickers dripping wet like this - he knew because he had his finger already ghosting on the wet patch between her thighs, a provocative smirk sent upwards from where his lips were ghosting over the lovely pooch on her stomach she managed to retain despite all the other changes in her body. He dipped one finger inside her first;then two and three, and he drank her surprised hiss with a sense of vindication. "Deeper", she hissed at that, her knees bucking a little.

"Not yet, those still need to go", he rasped in response, tugging at the flimsy material he had pooled in his other hand, balled into fist now. Her skin bloomed a faint pink from where the material dug into and she growled at the slight discomfort, grinding against his fingers buried inside. 

"They're yours for taking", she whispered huskily, her hand finding purchase on his arm, right thigh placed on another one.

"Rip it off, it's only fair", she waved him off, a predatory smile blooming on her face once he did that. A surprised wheeze escaped her when instead of diving into her right away, the ghoul tugged her down - and she landed back on the ground, naked on the grass, spread underneath the body she'd seen naked for the first time ever just as well. _Patience never was her strongest suit._

"That's a first", Uta drawled from where he kneeled over her, hands ghosting over her short hair, then moving to her breasts, toying with them absentmindedly. "How is it that we're naked for the first time, remind me?", he asked lightly, his knee parting her legs without ceremony. She was wet to the point of soaking the tips where her thighs were touching and Uta traced his fingers there with delight. 

"No--patience", Lotte panted, her grin a slash on her face, tightly wound from all the pressure building within. "Never took you for a sentimental person. You want candles to boot?". She's moved into English, a faint southern accent always resurfacing whenever she was agitated and Uta shaked his head with exasperation. 

"Not sentimental. Just want to see you properly for once". He knows honesty disarms her pretty effectively, and indeed his words had her sighing, an eye roll a weak cover for the tender expression creeping into her eyes. 

"And here I wanted you to fuck me silly, no holds barred, kakuja style", she drawled, watching with satisfaction as his face stilled, belying the ferocity he tried to smother very badly. She didn't do good with tenderness just yet - she wanted to drown, and go deep. And she was willing to risk a lot to get it.

Uta was caught unawares by her words, blank expression overtaking his face. _Surely she should understand the dange_r_?. _Perhaps fucking not. He'd gladly remind her - preferably without losing his own head in process though. _Decisions, decisions._

"You want no holds barred?", he ground out then, voice flat and oh so deceptively calm. Lotte held his gaze steadily, a calculating expression on her face. Around his knee her thighs quivered though, and she gave her lips a small lick. She nodded. "Then move on your stomach, and listen to me closely, for your own good. Lest you end up _devoured_", he ended with a whisper and Lotte shivered, feeling the skin on the corners of her lips rippling, ready to split any moment now - a survival response to danger her body felt was oncoming. 

He let her roll onto her belly, a provocative sway to her hips earning her a slap to that delectable ass of hers. 

"Now listen you frail thing-", he hissed into her ear from where he had her pinned to the ground in seconds, the woman writhing under not even half of his weight pressed against her back. "It's a dangerous game you're playing", he added in low growl. "It's not a sex gimmick or whatever - it's for hunting. You want to be hunted down this badly?". Only a frustrated moan answered him and Lotte groaned when he refused to go inside her still, the ghoul ignoring how slick and hot she felt against his length, so tempting when arching into him with that snarl-

Provocative, goading smirk sliced her face when she glanced at him then, and Lotte mouthed at him something; something obscene and filthy, and Uta had half the mind to remind her she was toying with real danger of death, not some fun role play here--She was fully aware of the danger, he understood suddenly, catching the serious glance she threw at him from behind her arm. "Go crazy, baby", she mouthed at him with a wink and he groaned, his muscles quivering around her in torturous constraint, desperate not to fly off the fucking hinges and end up eating her-

Ah yes indeed - naked, Lotte looked like the most delectable meal he'd ever seen if there ever was one. That's why they always had some clothes on-

"...you were saying?", Lotte drawled, hand brushing his long hair from her arm airily.

"Be serious Lotte", he snarled then, patience snapping in two, "Are you fucking suicidal? Is this is what you're aiming at?". He didn't give her time to answer, lifting himself partially from her body, hands gripping into her hips and tugging her to him, lifting her to her knees with a dragging slowness; giving her time to backtrack. She didn't backtrack, predictably, and he stilled, frozen with wordless frenzy. "I can drive you into the dirt just fine, just don't provoke me into bloodshed", he ground out, self control a nebulous concept all of a sudden.

"I want to see it", he heard her whisper, almost reverently then, her voice quivering a bit. She wasn't looking at him, breathing heavily, laboriously. "I can defend myself, you know it. Don't you want-- give it to me real _good_?". Let it be known that she wasn't above goading him with simplest of words and basests of desires.

He was silent at that, for the longest time. Kneeling on the ground before him in this half-reverent, half-obscene position, literally poised over the tip of his cock, Lotte thought idly that she perhaps should feel somewhat embarrassed, or at least the tiniest bit self conscious. But she was past all this, and most of all, she was wildly curious, for the first time in many, many months. 

It was spring again and she was aching to start living again. What better way than brush with death then--

"No", he whispered then, hand flying to her mouth fast, smothering a protest he knew she'd voice at his lack of consent, moment before he slammed into her in one ruthless push - intense as she wanted, not quite homicidal for her tastes still. Her whimper was one of frustration and rebellion, hand pounding the ground in furious helplessness as he drove her into the ground, relentless. 

He didn't really play diplomatically here, just shy of snapping her in two with each powerful stroke that had her bent precariously on the ground, knees reddened and coloured with grass all the same. The woman beneath him quivered with fury and desire, pale and sweaty, and absolutely glorious on all fours and he bit her neck none to gently, tasting blood she so desperately wanted to give him today-

\- "not _murderous enough" _Lotte ground out in cold fury at this. At that, and with a heavy sigh, Uta stopped altogether. _Fuck,_ he thought, feeling the tell tale rippling in his body at her wild desire. Any second now and she'd get her wish, except it was a different kind of hunger he was feeling all of a sudden-

"There's no pleasing you, isn't it?", he asked, ignoring how Lotte bit into his wrist with every intention of provoking him further as he attempted to flatten her to the ground fully. He simply couldn't be bothered anymore - she wasn't dying today, that's for sure. Biting a curse, he sild out of her, hands on her back so she wouldn't be able to retaliate. There would be some talking about her recklessness about _right now_-

"Don't you dare protest it, I'm not assisting with a suicide here, not today", Uta snarled at her as Lotte snapped her teeth at him, his hands gentle as he stilled her on the ground, every ounce of his strength put into not maiming the woman under him. "I don't know what the fuck is this about but-".

He caught her eye then and watched her deflate visibly - the good thing was that apparently her full strength hasn't bloomed yet. _Yet. She was manageable still._

"You're right, I'm not in the right state of mind", Lotte relented with a pained sigh then, her body going slack, no longer ready to pounce as she allowed him to massage gentle circles on her back. "It's the blood, I don't know, yours smells good--honestly I was out for a maim or kill, don't know which at this point and didn't really care then-". She laughed without mirth, rolling onto her back and tracing the hard planes of his stomach in turn, from where he was leaning over her, the ghoul still watching her warily.

"Sorry". That last addition had him cursing silently and Uta laid down on the ground, gathering the woman into himself with a resigned groan.

"What a supreme cockblock, that word", he chuckled grimly, patting her hair with affection still. He felt her coiling around his body, her hands roaming his arms, chest, stomach - going down, as if to directly protest his words from a second ago-

"Not so fast", he stilled her hand, not necessarily keen on picking up from where they left, not before making sure she wasn't hurting herself in her search for release. She stilled, attentive once again - whatever had been clouding her head has finally cleared out and Uta breathed out, wondering if he could start relaxing or should he be on the lookout still. 

They were quiet for a while, cooling off as the layers of sweat on them dried out, until the sun felt pleasant on their skin, and not stifling. The rich, spring grass felt soft under their bodies and Uta allowed himself to start relaxing, concentrating on the buzzing of insects and chittering of birds around them - the forest was teeming with life the ghoul could hear, now that his attention wasn't as laser focused on the woman in his arms.

He had no idea what had awakened inside of her that day but if she continued, something was bound to awaken in him in response to that.

He wasn't sure he particularly fancied that just yet.


End file.
